


Like I'm Gonna Lose You

by Picajc



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post ep 5x13 The Hike, Pre-Canon, These two would be lost without each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picajc/pseuds/Picajc
Summary: Moira is more effected by John's health scare than either one of them realizes; John reminds her of a time in their past when he feared for her life as well.
Relationships: Johnny Rose/Moira Rose
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	Like I'm Gonna Lose You

**Author's Note:**

> I love this show and these characters. My first writing venture for this incredible show, and I hope I can do these two justice! Inspired by the episode 'The Hike" and further influenced by the song "Like I'm Gonna Lose You" by Meghan Trainor and John Legend. Re-uploaded to fix some errors missed the first go round ;)

Like I’m Gonna Lose You

**_I woke up in tears  
With you by my side  
A breath of relief  
And I realized  
No, we're not promised tomorrow_ **

The peaceful sound of the ocean surrounded Johnny and Moira as they walked along the beach in the deepening twilight. The particular beach was of little importance, they’d been to so many in their years together- Italian, French, Grecian, they all seemed to blend together now. Between the lull of the waves, and John’s hand wrapped tightly in hers, Moira felt more at peace then she had in quite some time, probably since before… well… before their world had been ripped out from under them. 

“This is wonderful, darling,” she purred as they continued their journey across the soft sand, the soft grains cool against her bare feet. “We should take trips like this more often.” She leaned her head into his shoulder and shifted her blue eyes up to look at him.

“I’m glad to hear that, sweetheart,” he replied lovingly. “We’ll have to find some time to make that happen.”

John’s hand was entwined tightly with hers, his lips pressing a kiss to her temple every so often. He was wearing her favorite white Armani, and while she did think it may have been a bit much for an evening stroll in the sand, she internally applauded his choice nonetheless. White had never been his favorite color to wear, but knowing how much Moira loved him in it he was happy to indulge her, as he had done for the entirety of their marriage. Moira never demanded anything of him, despite what others in their former circles might have thought, and the little things that brought her joy, made him happy as well.

Moira sighed contently, leaning further into John as they walked. The sound of his heartbeat in her ear had always put her ever frantic mind at ease. When red carpet interviews would become overwhelming, Moira would lean into him and John would hold her tight, the steady sound of his heart calming her instantly. Whenever she had trouble sleeping, her head would find its way to his chest, and she’d be off to dreamland soon after. Even in peaceful moments like this, she would listen for the steady thrum of his heart just to hear it beating.

Only this time, there was nothing. No sound, no thrum she was so accustomed to. There was only hollow, empty silence.

Moira looked up at John and was frightened by what he saw. His color seemed off, almost translucent, and he suddenly felt quite cold to the touch. He offered her a sad smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish we had more time.” Then, to Moira’s horror, he began to fade away and before she could even remember to breathe, he was gone.

“John?” she called frantically to him, spinning this way and that. “John!” But it was no use. He was well and truly gone, swept away over the sea and into the now pitch black, starless unknown before her. Moira collapsed into the sand and buried her face in her hands.

“JOHN! NO!”

Moira jolted awake, tears cascading like waterfalls down her face, her sleep-heavy mind unable to reconcile why everything was so dark. Her eyes darted around until they adjusted enough for her to make out the dresser and television set in front of her- their motel room. Her mind finally registering that she was home and not watching the love of her life drift away from her forever, she frantically turned toward the spot where she prayed John would be.

And there he was- as heavy a sleeper as always, immune to the moments of panic she had just endured. Seeing his chest gently rising and falling, hearing his ever so soft snore sent a wave of relief so strong through her. In that moment, the dam broke and she began sobbing uncontrollably, dropping her face into her hands to try and muffle the sound. He was here, he was alive. It wasn’t a heart attack, just heartburn. He hadn’t died and left her alone. He was asleep, just as he should be. And she needed him to stay asleep so as not to worry him with her histrionics. 

John, on the other hand, was indeed a heavy sleeper. However, the one sound that never failed to wake him was that of his wife in distress. His mind registered the sound of her labored breathing and tears before his eyes even had a chance to fully open. In the blink of an eye he was up and the sight of Moira sobbing uncontrollably broke his heart, just like it always did. Pulling Moira into his arms, John was surprised at the strength behind the grip she held him in, but made no comment on it. He simply rocked her as she continued to cry, her head pressed tightly to his chest. He rubbed her back, gently reassuring her that all was well, while simultaneously trying to figure out what had happened to make her so upset in the middle of the night.

After a while, tears still falling, she lifted her head and took in every inch of his face. Every line, every wrinkle, the shape of his eyes and the slant of his nose, she left not one spot unseen. John was about to ask her what had happened to make her so hysterical when she took his head in her hands and leaned in and kissed him like it was the last thing she’d ever do in this life. 

**_So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you  
I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye  
Wherever we're standing  
I won't take you for granted  
'Cause we'll never know when, when we'll run out of time_ **

When the need for air pulled Moira away from him, John took that moment to cup her tear-stained face in his hands, brushing a few stray droplets away from her damp, red cheeks. Even visibly upset, she was still so very beautiful.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” he questioned. Moira was prone to hysterics, but he could sense this was different. Something serious was bothering her, this was not something insignificant that could send her flying off the handle any other day of the week. No, something had shaken Moira to her core and he was determined to find out what, and do what he could to make it better.

She looked up at him for a moment before shakily answering, “You were gone.”

“Gone?”

She nodded. “We were walking on the beach, and when I leaned into your embrace, I couldn’t feel your heartbeat anymore. The steady thrum of your precious heart was gone, and before I could react, so were you.” At that, a fresh wave of tears started and Moira collapsed into Johnny’s chest once again.

John held her tight and closed his eyes against his own tears, realizing her distress came back to him, and the scare he had put her through just recently with his heart. The heart that was fine, but had sent him to the emergency room for the afternoon. The heart he vowed to treat with better care. The heart that had gone silent and taken him away from her in her dream. The dream that was causing her this level of distress and panic.

“I’m so sorry, Moira,” Johnny whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry I scared you like this.” He kissed the top of her head before carefully pulling her up so she could look him in the eye. “But look, I’m still here. And I promise I’m going to take what the doctor said seriously. Because I don’t ever want to be the reason you are this upset ever again. Ok?”

“Promise?” she responded shakily.

“I promise, sweetheart.”

A watery smile and a quick peck on the lips was her response before she resettled against him, her ear planted firmly over his still beating heart, drawing comfort from its steady beat. 

Later, just as John was about to question whether or not she was still awake, he heard a soft “John,” followed by the briefest of pauses. “I hope you never have to endure the agony that was waiting in that hospital for word on your condition. It was unbearable.”

John considered his next words carefully, and responded with a slight chuckle, “Once was enough. I think we’re even now, Moira”

She lifted herself up and met his gaze with one of confusion. “Once? What is this ‘once’ you speak of? And what do you mean ‘even’?”

John was a little bit taken aback. She didn’t know. How could she? “We’ve never talked about this?” he had to ask, though he was fairly certain this conversation had never been had, neither wanting to dwell on past traumatic events.

“No we certainly have not, Mr. Rose. Please, enlighten me. When did I put you through such abject terror?”

“July 2nd through 5th 1983.”

**_So I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you  
I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you_ **

****

_July 2, 1983_

John paced the private waiting room of some New York City hospital, wishing it wasn’t so quiet. How could anywhere be quiet in New York? The quiet was what scared him. The quiet was what let his mind wander through the worst-case scenarios. Was there even a best-case scenario here in this moment?

Moira was delivering their baby WAY too early. Mid-September was still eleven weeks away. Two weeks early made sense. Even a month early still seemed ok to him. Not eleven weeks. Eleven was way too soon. Every book and article Mora had been pouring over since learning she was pregnant warned of the dangers of a premature delivery. And despite taking every precaution since that day, here they were.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he could have just stayed with Moira for the delivery. He had promised her since the day she told him she was pregnant that he would be there, holding her hand every step of the way. The idea of giving birth, but then being entirely responsible for another human being frightened Moira in a way he had never seen, but through all of her fears and nerves, John was always able to make everything seem ok for her. And since their child had started moving, Moira had been more hopeful and excited at the prospect of becoming a mother.

But now, all John felt, and was sure Moira felt, was fear. He had been ripped from sleep a few hours ago by her agonized cries of his name coming from their bathroom. And when he saw her, half lying on the floor gasping for air and tightly clutching her stomach, a small but growing puddle of blood around her, his heart nearly stopped.

“Mother of God,” he breathed as he took in the terrifying sight.

“Johnny, it hurts,” Moira moaned, blindly reaching for him with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around the swell of her stomach. He knelt down next to her and she grabbed his hand in a clammy vice grip, tears streaming from her usually bright blue eyes, now clouded over with pain and worry. “Please Johnny, it’s too soon. Make it stop!”

He doesn’t remember calling 911, or the ride in the ambulance. All he could see in his tunnel vision was Moira’s pained, sweaty face, and all he could hear was her begging the paramedics to save their baby. His pleas occur only in his head, but they include ones for their child AND her, especially when he sees her eyes roll back into her head as she goes silent and limp just as they pull up to the hospital. 

“Moira? MOIRA!” he shouts before she is whisked away from him and through the doors of the emergency room, leaving him no time to protest that he cannot go with her.

A kind nurse ushered him to the private room he is currently waiting in. The same nurse had brought him a pair of scrubs to change into as well- apparently there was blood all over the front of his pajamas. He hadn’t noticed before, his only focus being on Moira and their unborn child. He was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear the doctor come into the room.

“Mr. Rose?”

John’s head flew up to see a man in bloody scrubs and a mask before him. The blood didn’t scare him as much as the unreadable expression in the doctor’s eyes.

“Yes, that’s me,” he stepped toward the man, stretching his hand out in greeting. “Is Moira alright? And our baby?”

The doctor dropped the mask under his chin and offered a small smile. “You have a son, Mr. Rose. He’s understandably small for being born so early, but very loud, which is encouraging.” John couldn’t help but smile at that- any child of Moira’s was bound to know how to make a boisterous entrance into the world.

“A son,” Johnny exhaled with a smile. “Is he going to be alright?”

“As I said, the crying is encouraging,” the doctor replied. “He’s in for a fight, but we have the best neonatologist in the country on staff here at the hospital, and she has already agreed to oversee your sons care.”

“That’s fantastic,” Johnny beamed. “When can I see Moira? Has she seen the baby yet?”

At the mention of Moira, the doctor’s face dropped. “Mrs. Rose’s condition is a bit more precarious at the moment. She lost a great deal of blood before arriving here. Since she was unconscious on arrival, we performed an emergency c-section. She coded on the table shortly after we delivered your son.”

If there hadn’t been a chair behind him, Johnny would have fallen straight to the floor. “Is she… she isn’t…” he couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

The doctor quickly sat down in the chair beside him. “No, she’s alive, we were able to get her back fairly quickly. But she hasn’t woken up yet, and we aren’t sure when she will. The delivery and events leading up to it were very hard on her. The next few days are going to be critical.”

“Can I see her?”

“Once she is settled into her private room, of course. But for now, would you like to see your son?”

John couldn’t speak for all the information that was swimming through his head, but he nodded and followed the doctor toward the NICU.

Despite his tiny size, and the numerous tubes and wires connected to him, David Jonathan Rose was the most beautiful baby John had ever seen. It was surreal to see so much of himself in another human being. David’s eyes were covered for now, but John hoped they’d be the same beautiful blue that Moira’s were. And when the NICU nurse finally left John alone with his son, the tears came like raging rivers.

“Hi son,” John choked out, his index finger carefully stroking David’s impossibly small arm. “I’m your dad. Your mom and I have been so excited for you. We both wish you would have waited just a little bit longer, but you’re here now, and we love you so much. Your mom…” he paused a moment to gather his thoughts and to try and steady his voice. “Your mom will be here soon to see you. She went through a lot to get you here today, and right now she needs to rest.” Another brief pause. “But she’s a fighter, just like you are, and she’s going to be fine. Just like you.”

So much of that first full day at the hospital was a blur to John. David had been delivered some time in the middle of the night, and he hadn’t been able to see Moira until the sun was rising over the city. Like their son, Moira was hooked up to a variety of tubes and wires, all immediately leaving bruises on her beautiful, fair skin. 

After several phone calls to family, his assistant, and business partners, plus many conversations with the doctors for both Moira and David, John showered and changed, and settled in to wait for as long as it took for Moira to wake. He split his time between Moira’s room and the NICU, wishing he could split himself in two, wanting to be with both his wife and son in equal measure. 

He knew not to expect Moira to wake up that first day, that in itself would have been a miracle. But as the sun set on day three, the Fourth of July holiday, and still Moira remained unconscious, his mind began to drift to darker territory. What would he do if… how could he raise their son without her? How could he _go on_ without her? Nothing in life would ever shine as bright as it did with her around. He’d spent plenty of time talking to her, relaying everything and anything he could about David. Telling her she was missing a big party in the city below. Letting her know they were missing their first fireworks as a family- she loved fireworks. Nothing seemed to rouse her. Maybe he needed to try a different approach. So on the morning of day four, that’s just what he did.

**_Let's take our time to say what we want  
Use what we got before it's all gone  
'Cause no, we're not promised tomorrow_ **

“Good morning sweetheart,” he greeted her as he pulled his chair closer to the head of her bed. He set a cup of her favorite tea on the table beside her and took her hand in his, much like he had the previous mornings. “I brought tea.”

Not a stir from Moira, just the various beeps and hums of the machines monitoring her.

“Sweetheart, you know I’ve never demanded anything of you., I don’t believe that kind of marriage benefits anyone. But Moira, I’m going to need you to do something for me… in fact I’m going to insist on it.” He paused, trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.

“I need you to wake up. This isn’t how we were supposed to do this. It was supposed to be me holding your hand and feeding you ice chips while you yelled at me and called me every name your brilliant mind could come up with. You were supposed to hold him, give him his name, and tell him you love him _first_. Not me. If anything, the last few days have shown me that I could never do this without you. David needs you.” A pause to swipe at the tears that had started falling. “I need you, Moira. Please, sweetheart, please, wake up. Please come back to us. To me. I love you… so very much. Please, I love you, Moira.” John couldn’t continue, and simply dropped his head onto the bed beside her, shoulders shaking with his sobs. There was so much more he wanted to say, to hopefully coax her back into the world of consciousness, but he just couldn’t do it. He was crumbling without her and he needed her back.

A few moments later, with the dramatic flair only **THE** Moira Rose could pull off in such a moment, John felt a gentle hand running through his hair, followed by a soft sigh. His head jerked up at the sound, and his tear-filled eyes were met with two tired, but oh so beautiful blue ones.

“Moira?” he whispered.

“I love you too, John,” was her scratchy reply.

“Oh Moira!” John cried before his lips were on hers for the briefest yet sweetest of moments, he being mindful of the breathing tube in her nose. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

Moira smiled in return, but her eyes quickly bulged in fear when she suddenly realized that she no longer felt pregnant, but did not see or hear her baby either.

“John, what about—” she attempted to rise from the bed, her eyes darting around the room frantically.

“David is in the NICU, but he’s doing fine,” John quickly assured her. “He’s small, and hooked up to more wires than you are, but they say his lungs are good and he’s receiving the very best care.”

Moira’s mega watt smile John loved so much returned. “David?” She asked tearfully. “We have a son?”

John smiled lovingly at her. “We do, and he’s beautiful. And as soon as the doctor says it’s ok, we’ll go see him.” She nodded as tears fell freely down her cheeks, and pulled him in for another kiss. “Oh sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re still with me,” he breathed, his forehead pressed tightly against hers.

“So am I, John. With you and our boy.”

**_I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you  
I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbye  
Wherever we're standing  
I won't take you for granted  
'Cause we'll never know when, when we'll run out of time_ **

****

Moira sat in stunned silence as John finished his story. She had no idea. The last thing she remembered about that night was waking up not feeling quite right. Other than the first few moments after she had woken up, her hospital stay was a blur of meds and conferring with doctors about what needed to be done for David. He spent over two months in the NICU and was finally allowed to come home on his actual due date in September.

“Oh John,” she whispered after a time. “I had no idea.” Fresh tears began to fall from her eyes.

“I know, sweetheart. And I’m not telling you now to upset you. I just want you to know that I _do_ know how you felt waiting for news. And I know where your fears about losing me come from, because I’ve dealt with them in regard to you.”

She nodded in response. “I love you, Johnny Rose, so very much. You really are the most important thing in the world to me.”

“I know, Moira. I love you, too. More than anyone or anything.” He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “And I promise, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, ok?”

She smiled. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

She delivered a soft peck to his lips before snuggling into him and closing her eyes. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her finally into a peaceful sleep.

_  
**I'm gonna love you (love you) like I'm gonna lose you…** _


End file.
